


Dark Knights

by thecat_13145



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: AU, Abusive Relationships, Domestic Violence, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman is under arrest, Bruce Wayne is in the hospital and Tim Drake is hiding out with Jason Todd, just relieved to be alive</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Knights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meyari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyari/gifts).



> It sort of came to me after reading Gotham Knights 24, that Batman is actually pretty mean to Bruce Wayne. Almost abusive. I mean, he hurts Bruce, isolates him from Friends and family and in that particular issue plays some rather nasty mind games with him. That got me wandering what would happen if Bruce and Batman were not one and the same person, but two separate people...
> 
> I then promised it to Meyari as a birthday fic (this is back in September) and this is what I've managed so far. Sorry, this is to say I haven't forgotten and I am working on it.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Tim could count twenty five different escape routes from this room, including the half propped open window. 

He was sure if he stayed where he was long enough, he’d find more, but it was obvious even after only a couple of hours in this place that Jason had taken care to make sure he could never be cornered here.

Here being a two bedroom flat in one of the shadier parts of Gotham. It was cold, mostly because there were about three windows open, the paint was flaking off most of the walls and there were knives hidden everywhere and for the first time in five years, Tim felt vaguely safe.

He was aware that that was slightly contradictory, but it was also true.

Ever since a motorcycle had pulled up outside Wayne Manor as the Ambulance pulled away and a helmet was roughly thrust at him, he felt able to relax for the first time since his parents died and he’d gone to live with Bruce.

Jason walked into the kitchen, casually dropping a cell phone on the table. Tim had no doubt it was a burn phone, untraceable.

“Just spoke to Dick.” Jason offered without preamble. “The brat’s out of surgery. Say if he makes it through the night, should be O.K.”

“Damian’s too stubborn to give Batman the satisfaction of killing him.” Tim offered. He risked a glance at Jason, not sure if he should ask. “And Bruce?”

“Critical, but stable. And he’s mostly on the critical list because the bastard fractured his skull.” Jason snorted. “Told Dick to tell the doctor’s that’s nothing new and it may finally force some sense into him. You hungry?”

Tim paused. Jason frowned.

“Let me rephrase that. I’m hungry. Going to get some pizza. Anything you can’t eat?”

“Anchovies.” Tim muttered, really hoping that Jason isn’t going to do like Batman did and force him to eat them, virtually starving him until he would. It hadn’t worked. Even the smell now makes him feel sick.

Rationally he knows that Jason isn’t going to do that, but it doesn’t stop him hunching over to try and make himself look smaller, more vulnerable.

Jason looked furious.

“No anchovies. Got it.” He said, his voice carefully controlled. “You wanna get some kip while I’m gone, bedrooms through there.” He pointed with one thumb.

“Right.” Tim muttered. A part of him wanted to ask Jason to stay or for him to go with Jason, but he forced himself not to. Jason had his own life. Tim was the guest. Jason wasn’t going to put up with Tim hanging around forever and he needed to steady himself against his fear.

The hands hidden in his hoody top were still in fists when the door closed.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

_Batman has found the photos. The early ones from when he was first figuring out the secret. The ones of Dick and of Jason._

_It’s strange._

_He’s well aware of Batman’s capacity for violence, but until the fists swings at his head, he doesn’t honestly believe that Batman will hurt him._

_Bruce does though. Bruce yells at Tim to run, tries to grab at Batman._

_Batman flings him off like a fly, he sees Bruce crumple like a broken rag doll into the wall, as Batman’s hands grab him around the throat, spittle from his mouth as he demands to know__

*/*/*//*/*

He rolled away instinctively from the hand on his shoulder, almost falling off the narrow bed in his panic.

Jason didn’t seem either surprised or bothered.

“Pizza’s here.” He said, neutrally, pushing the box onto the bed.

Tim moved rapidly towards it. He literally cannot remember the last time he had pizza. Batman didn’t approve of junk food, and it was literally more than Alfred’s life was worth to try and slip them some. He wasn’t sure Damian even knew what Pizza was.

Damian.

_Tiberius jumps up grabbing on to Batman’s arm, even though he’s probably bleeding more than anyone. The dog probably knows he’s dying as much of as any of them, but he doesn’t care. He’s still trying to save his master._

“I guess I’m not hungry.” He muttered, pushing the pizza away. Jason’s expression didn’t change.

“Best thing about Pizza?” he demanded of the room. “Good hot or cold.”

He picked up the box and walked out of the room.

Tim sat on the bed, breathing hard.

He was being stupid.

Batman was in jail, and this time it looked like the charges would stick. Even if they didn’t, after all Batman had beaten the wrap on Vesper Fairchild, even managed to convince Dick he hadn’t done it. 

Even if, he forced his thoughts away from that, the charges didn’t stick, he was here. With Jason.

Jason, who had survived the worst beating Batman, had ever given to anyone. Jason who had managed to vanish completely off Batman’s radar for two years and had only popped up again when he saw Tim.

Jason had tried to protect him once. If he needed to, he could ask Jason for help. Jason would show him how to live so that Batman didn’t find you.

Unbidden, his hands dug into the hoodie pocket, pulling out the piece of paper concealed in there. A number, 10 digits scribbled in Jason’s hand writing that he found thrust into the costume after that fight. A promise.

The paper is crumpled, so worn that it feels like he’s going to tear it every time he touches it. Over the last few months, since Damian turned up and Batman was taking his anger at Bruce’s betrayal (as he saw it) out on anyone who came near him, he’s pulled it out and contemplated ringing it. Every phone box, every prepaid cell phone offer in Gotham seemed to taut him in those weeks, but always he’s pushed it back. Things never got that bad, until it was too late.

His hands dug into fists.

He should have called. He should have tried to protect Damian, if he couldn’t protect himself and now Damian is lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life and _

He jumped something soft hit the bed next to him.

Opening his eyes, he saw Jason standing there. Next to him lay a role of tape.

“I’m going to spar.” Jason said firmly. “You’re joining me.”


End file.
